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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23301691">The Write Choice</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormforalways/pseuds/bookwormforalways'>bookwormforalways</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Actress!Clarke, And they're on a plane, Bellarke, F/M, Minor Anya, Modern AU, Some Fluff, They're both nerds, and bookworms, author!Bellamy, classic meet cute, minor monty and harper, mostly cute banter, octavia makes an appearance, some mild swearing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:41:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,216</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23301691</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormforalways/pseuds/bookwormforalways</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The sudden success of B. Blake's novel series leads to the process of the first book being turned into a movie. Bellamy is not sold on the idea at first, but still finds himself on a plane LA to meet with the production team. And then Clarke Griffin, Hollywood's princess, sits down next to him for the flight.  He is surprised to discover that not only has she read his books - she loves them, and is on her way to a very important audition. Curious to see where this all might lead, Bellamy hides his smirk and his true identity.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>293</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Write Choice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi all, I hope you're all doing okay, and are staying home (if you can) and staying safe. </p>
<p>Who else is dreaming of travelling and flying while staying home in self-isolation? </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A/N: I have absolutely zero clue as to how film production processes or even auditions work, so I definitely manipulated everything to make this story work. If it's not up to par with reality, *shrugs*, oh well.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>                                </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I know this trip was unexpected, but you’re still on a deadline, Bellamy. We need your first draft by the end of the month.” Kane’s voice came through from the other end of the phone call. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy inhaled, tightening his grip on his phone. “I know, Kane.” His sharp words caught the eye of the flight attendant helping a passenger a few rows ahead. Lowering his voice, Bellamy continued, “Tell Pike I’d get it to him sooner if he wasn’t making me fly halfway across the world for this meeting.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,” Kane said, trying to lighten the mood. “Just see if you can get some work done on the plane, and I’ll check in tonight.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy agreed, and ended the call. Taking his ball cap off his head, he ran a hand through his hair, and sighed as he replaced the hat. If he had known having his novel optioned as a movie would be this much of a hassle, he never would have signed the contract. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But here he was, sitting on an early morning flight to LA with a first class ticket, when he’d much rather stay in New York. He closed his eyes and pictured his home office, where it was peaceful and quiet, and way less populated - only to be disrupted as another distracted passenger jostled his shoulder with their backpack as they made their way down the aisle of the plane.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His daily morning writing routine had been interrupted, and the disruption was throwing him for a loop. Bellamy was en route to Los Angeles to meet with the film production team who were working hard to turn his first novel into a movie. While he was just starting to get used to the fact that his real life allowed him to write stories for a living, here he was being thrust into the new and terrifying venture of watching his words, his personal stories, being brought to life on the big screen. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy had never intended to become a writer. But when working his part time job at a grocery store had left him no time to complete a high school english creative writing assignment, he had simply written the first story that popped into his mind - one of the many bedtime stories he had crafted for his little sister when they were younger. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Raised by a single mom who often worked night shifts, Bellamy had been tasked with watching Octavia after school, making her dinner, helping with homework and putting her to bed. Only, Octavia hated going to bed, and refused to fall asleep unless Bellamy was by her side. To pass the time, he had started narrating a story of a determined young heroine, overcoming obstacles and monsters with strength and courage, very much based on mythology he enjoyed. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Soon, it was a nightly routine, and his little sister was eager to get ready for bed, hungry for the next installment in his tale. So years later, when Bellamy was under pressure to quickly write a short story for Mr. Pike, the story flowed naturally, easily filling the required page amount.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Pike must have been impressed, because the story came back with a high grade. Bellamy would have thought nothing more of it, but then Pike reached out to him months later. By that time, Bellamy had already graduated high school and was halfway through his first semester of college, studying history and language with hopes of becoming a teacher one day. But Pike’s phone call changed the trajectory of Bellamy’s life dramatically. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Pike had been so enthralled by Bellamy’s final writing assignment that he had forwarded the piece to his college roommate, a man named Marcus Kane, who happened to work for Polis Publishing. Kane had replied that they would be interested in fine-tuning and possibly publishing Bellamy’s story if he was able to submit a full length manuscript. He said that while they rarely took on projects like this, Kane could see Bellamy’s potential.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So Bellamy buckled down and spent any time that he wasn’t in class, doing homework, or working, tucked away in his dorm room, writing his first manuscript. By the time he had finished his first year of college, he had submitted the first draft, and earned high praise from Marcus Kane. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now, five years later, Bellamy had published the first two novels in his Sanctum series, The City of Light and A Mountain of Secrets<em> . </em> The third book had been completed and was now in the final edits with a release date in a few months. And he was staring down the deadline to complete the first draft for the fourth instalment, of which he was almost three-quarters done, and almost near a nervous breakdown. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The first books had been far easier for him to write, with less public pressure. But since the release of the second book, the Sanctum series had gained traction and rocketed to the top of the best seller list. While he was ecstatic that his books had been received so well, he was also well aware of the pressure to please his audience. As well, it made Bellamy eternally grateful he had opted to keep his first name off the cover, as he was already a private person who treasured his anonymity. In a proactive step to stay under the radar, he had no personal social media accounts - only having author Twitter and Instagram accounts (both verified, whatever the hell that meant) that he rarely used, only posting with Kane’s prompting.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ladies and gentlemen, please find your seats.” The in flight announcement brought Bellamy out of his thoughts, reminding him where he was. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He fiddled with his hat again, a nervous habit that Octavia always made fun of him for. Normally he would burn off his nervous energy by going for a run with his dog Achilles, but that was impossible in the moment, as he was confined to his seat for the next few hours. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry, excuse me,” a soft voice interrupted. Looking up he saw a blonde girl wearing sunglasses and a black ball cap standing in the aisle beside him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m at the window,” she gestured, pointing to the empty seat beside him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy stood up and let the girl pass, and she quickly settled into her seat, placing her backpack by her feet. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He sat back down, and out of the corner of his eye watched his new neighbour take off her sunglasses and hat, and shook her blonde hair free from it’s ponytail, transforming her appearance. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And holy crap, with her disguise removed, he realized that it wasn’t just any girl. It was Clarke Griffin. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy felt the earth move. Well, technically, it was the plane beginning to taxi toward the runway. But he was very much shocked seeing a face he recognized from Octavia’s favourite childhood show sitting next to him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then she shivered, taking a shaky breath as her fingers picked at the hole in her ripped jeans. Then she inhaled deeply. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You okay there, princess?” he asked. She seemed nervous to fly, an odd trait for someone who must fly frequently for work and travel. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She turned her head sharply to look at him, her blue eyes piercing. “Yeah, I just hate the taking off part of flying.” She took a deep breath, but he could see how anxious she was. But then she opened her mouth again, “And don’t call me that.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He couldn’t help but smirk. “Sorry. But you <em> are </em> a princess, Hollywood royalty, and all. Right?” From what he knew, her father was an Oscar winning director and her mother a famous actress, playing the lead in one of the longest running medical dramas all about surgeons and the inner-workings of a hospital.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She rolled her eyes. “Just call me Clarke. Please.” And she held out a hand to shake. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He shook, “I’m Bellamy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She snorted. “You just made that up.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nope, honestly.” He held up both hands defensively, “I can show you my passport if you need proof.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke shook her head, “Nah, I’ll take your word for it.” After a pause, she raised an eyebrow and asked, “So you watched Princess Academy?” She referenced the name of the children’s television show she had starred on for almost a decade, playing a bubbly princess who always wore pink and sparkles, ruling a kingdom where every problem was solved in twenty minutes or less, within the formulaic episode. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He grimaced, “Not if I could help it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke giggled, but didn’t say anything, so he continued. “My kid sister was obsessed, and could probably quote every episode back in the day.” Remembering the days where the show’s horrifically catchy theme song played on repeat in his house, he shuddered. “She would spontaneously combust if I told her I was sitting beside you right now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, hating my show is better than you being a creepy stalker, so I’ll take it.” Her blue eyes flashed as she teased him back. “And I’ll even take a picture with you for your sister, if you want her to spontaneously combust. Could be good revenge for years of Princess Academy torture?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Maybe I will take you up on that.” Bellamy grinned as the airplane began to move faster, accelerating down the runway. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The airplane nosed upward, and soon the wheels lifted off the ground. They were airborne. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He noticed Clarke let out a deep calming breath, her anxiety must have relieved with the smooth takeoff. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So what brings to LA, if you’re clearly not a fan of the television industry?” she teased, probably hoping to distract from her visible relief. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy crossed his arms, “Hey, I am a fan of <em> quality </em> television. There’s nothing wrong with being critical of mind-numbing children’s shows.” He smirked when he heard her scoff. “My boss is flying me out for a few business meetings, which could have been directed over video calls, so let’s just say it feels like a waste of my time.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her laugh surprised him. “I know the feeling, my agent ships me off for auditions and press all over all the time. What would you rather be doing?” She was still picking at the loose threads of her ripped jeans, probably a version of her own nervous habit. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Working, running, reading - anything but being cooped up here,” he answered honestly. He stretched his legs forward, and was suddenly grateful that his seat had a comfortable amount of legroom. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, I don’t know if you can work on the plane, but you definitely can’t run. That leaves reading, so I hope you brought a book. But at the very least, take advantage of flying first class.” She said, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye as her finger nudged the call button on her armrest. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Seconds later, a flight attendant appeared. And a few moments after that, two coffees appeared, along with a tray of cookies and pastries. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy raised his eyebrow, “Ah, the princess treatment.” Of course, Clarke would be comfortable taking advantage of everything first class had to offer. She probably flew like this multiple times a week. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shut up.” She replied, flipping him her middle finger. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Now don’t do that, princess,” he said sarcastically. “I’d hate for any of your subjects to get the wrong impression.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And here I was, about to share with you, but I guess now I get two coffees.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>With a smirk, she leaned forward, digging in her backpack for a moment, before pulling out a folder and a hardback book. As an author and a book nerd, Bellamy’s eyes automatically glanced over, looking for a title - but she had taken the dust jacket off, and the spine was facing away from him - so it remained a mystery. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So? Did you bring a book?” Clarke asked, taking a sip of her first coffee. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He nodded. Obviously Bellamy had brought a book, he never left home empty handed. But he was surprised to see one in her possession. Weren’t movie stars supposed to have better things to do than read for fun? </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Reaching forward into his own bag, he pulled out his moleskin notebook and a novel, flashing the cover toward Clarke. It was an advanced reader copy of Cage Wallace’s latest sci-fi mystery, a work gift from Kane. Technically Bellamy could read <em> and </em> work, as Kane had asked Bellamy to write a review as he also wrote within the sci-fi genre. But he had been putting it off as he wasn’t fond of the pretentious author’s prose and generic plot. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wait.” Clarke caught his attention, awe in her voice. “<em> How </em> do <em> you </em> have a copy of Wallace’s latest book? It’s not out for another few months?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I have my ways.” He answered smugly, biting his lip to contain his shit-eating grin, and flipped open to the first chapter. Who would have thought that the Hollywood princess was a sci-fi fan?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke picked up the second cup of coffee, and placed it on the tray table in front of Bellamy. “A peace offering. Now, spill.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Picking up the gifted coffee, he took a slow sip, savouring the caffeine while watching Clarke’s impatience grow. Finally he answered, “I work for Polis, Wallace’s publishing house.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re an editor?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy shrugged, “Something like that.” Technically, he was telling the truth, as he was employed by Polis, and he did edit his own writing. It was just not the <em> full </em> truth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Cool,” Clarke responded, and picked up her own coffee. “If I didn’t have work to do, I’d try to steal that off you, just so you know.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy laughed, but she didn’t say anything more.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not knowing if he should keep talking to her, Bellamy busied himself, turning his attention back to the first page. It must have been the right call, because she didn’t continue their conversation. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Instead, Clarke pushed aside the novel on her tray table, placing the folder on top, and dug in her bag again for a pen and a highlighter. Curiosity got the better of him, and his eyes flicked over to her tray table as she opened the folder. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He gasped in surprise, but quickly disguised it as a cough to clear his throat. The tactic must have worked because Clarke didn’t look up. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>On Clarke’s tray table was the script for The City of Light, the movie script for his book. He instantly recognized it because he had an identical copy in his own bag, covered in all of his own notes to pass on to the production team. If Clarke had a copy of the script, it could only mean one thing - she was auditioning for a role, and more than likely, the female lead. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Holy crap. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Umm, hello, earth to Bellamy?” she snapped her fingers in front of his face, bringing him back to focus. “You were staring?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His heart hammered with shock and embarrassment at being caught staring. “Yeah, I was lost in thought.” Adjusting his hat, he asked, “What’s that? Homework?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She grinned. “Something like that. It’s why I’m flying to LA. I have a callback for this new movie, The City of Light, based on the book, the first of the Sanctum series. I have this memorized, backwards and forwards,” pointing to the script. “But I can’t stop looking at it. I’m dying to play Calliope, the heroine. Do you know the books?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy worked hard to keep his smile neutral when his natural reaction would have been to smirk widely and tease mercilessly. She picked up the mystery novel from under her script and passed it to him - and sure enough it was The City of Light, his first novel, his name B. Blake embossed on the spine. Flipping open the cover, he noted it was a first edition. And he had to bite his lip once again to hide his gleeful smile at seeing his own signature on the title page. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke Griffin had a signed first edition of his book. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Suddenly, he had the upper hand here, and wanted to play that to his advantage. “I’m familiar with them, yeah.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Right, of course. You work for Polis.” Clarke laid a palm over the script, “This, this is the kind of project I want to be a part of. I’m sick of being typecast as the ditzy princess and a dumb blonde, which is clearly all I’m remembered for.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I thought every girl wanted to be a princess?” Even his own sister had spent her younger years playing pretend princess before she had discovered contact sports and martial arts. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke shook her head. “Calliope is a warrior, a leader. She’s strong, independent and fearless. That’s what I want to play. Not ditzy or giggly. Every character I’ve played before seems so fake and too perfect. I want to play someone real, someone with depth and transformation.” She paused, tucking a strand of her so-called offensive blonde hair behind her ear. “Sorry, I get a little carried away sometimes…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, good thing you have a callback then, especially if you’re such a fan of the books,” he mused. Secretly, he was impressed that Clarke felt so strongly about his character. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke rolled her eyes. “It’s pointless though. I’m up against another girl. Have you heard of Lexa Woods?” When he nodded, she continued. “My agent says she’s probably going to get it, and truthfully, she’s perfect for the role. But we both have to meet with the production team this afternoon. Apparently the author, B. Blake himself, is going to be there, because he of all people gets a say in who they cast. Which is completely ridiculous.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Stealing his features into a neutral expression once again, Bellamy answered, “Sounds intense. I take it you don’t like this author?” Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, he glanced down to double check that his black moleskin notebook was flipped over to make sure the <em> ‘Property of Bellamy Blake’ </em> tag on the front was covered. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s not that. I actually love his books, they’re my favourite. It’s just unfair that this one person gets to make this final decision that determines my career. My agent went out on a limb to get me an audition for this role, and was surprised I got a callback, let alone get this far. If I don’t get this, I can kiss my career goodbye and sign my life away to the Hallmark Channel.” Uncrossing her arms, she ran her hand through her long blonde hair as she added to her rant. “And the worst part is, this author is stupidly secretive, so no one really knows anything about him, so I have no idea if he’s even going to give me a chance, or just label me the dumb blonde princess right away.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He can’t be that bad. Plus, if he writes sci-fi, he’s probably never seen Princess Academy,” Bellamy said, hoping to ease her concerns. Because while he may have been quick to judge her earlier, he found himself pleasantly surprised as he got to know her more.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She rolled her eyes at him. “Well, that’s the problem. No one knows. He has like, no social media whatsoever, and never goes on book tours or does any press. Even his stupid author picture is a silhouette.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>To preserve his anonymity, Bellamy was published using his initial rather than his full name, and had a very basic author’s description on the back cover fold, which only revealed his academic credentials and the fact that he has a dog. While he loved writing, he wanted to make sure that nothing changed in his day to day life, and he definitely wanted to keep himself and his sister out of the spotlight. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And apparently Clarke Griffin hated that fact. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But since when did he care about what other people thought about him? Especially people like Clarke. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Though, he couldn’t help feeling a little bit bad for her. Here she was, stressing about her callback with the mystery author, no clue that the very person she was so worried about was sitting right next to her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you like dogs? Blake has a dog, so maybe you could bond over that?” He flexed his fingers, stretching his tense joints, as he offered what he hoped would be an olive branch. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke nodded halfheartedly, thumbing through the script. Bellamy noticed that she had added almost as many notes as he had. And he found himself curious to read what she had written, what her thoughts were on the screen writer's interpretation of his novel.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then she stopped in her tracks, and looked up at him with a devilish grin. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You work for Polis. Do you - do you know Blake?” Her intense questioning gaze threatened to look into his soul. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy ducked his head, before composing himself to answer, “Uh, yeah, kind of. But he’s a super private person, and I don’t think he’s sold on the idea of this movie to begin with. So I’d probably talk to him about his dog.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Again, all <em> technically </em> true. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She sighed, and dropped her head into her hands. “Well, shit, you’re useless.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He laughed, and refocused his attention on the book in his hands while finishing his coffee.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke kept quiet, flipping through the script to reread certain scenes, and he caught himself watching her mouth the words noiselessly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then he tore his gaze away, not wanting to be accused of staring at her beautiful rosy lips. Again. She’d already caught him staring once. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Every once in a while, she would open the book and flip to a page with surprising accuracy, to reference the script with the original source, and then she’d add a few more notes in the margins. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>If he was completely honest with himself, Bellamy had been against the movie idea because he didn’t want the books he was proud of writing to be turned into a cinematic joke. It was a tragic fate that had befallen many of his favourite books. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And while he would admit that he was already impressed with the production team for even bringing him aboard to help keep the integrity of the book as they transformed it for the big screen, he was still apprehensive about the whole endeavour. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But watching Clarke pour diligently over the script, and seeing her genuine interest in the book and love of the character, well, it made him think. Perhaps it wouldn’t turn out to be a total failure. If an actress as dedicated as Clarke was tasked with bringing Calliope to the big screen, there was a chance it would actually be alright - more than alright. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>An hour later, Bellamy noticed Clarke’s breathing change, and looked over to find her asleep. Leaning against the window, with the script open over her lap, she seemed peaceful and relaxed. She wasn’t Hollywood’s princess anymore. No, she was just a young woman who no longer had the weight of the world on her shoulders, for a few moments at least. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Taking advantage of the quiet, Bellamy put aside Wallace’s book and pulled open his laptop. Opening his manuscript, he quickly reviewed what he had written last, and eagerly got to work adding in the next few scenes of Calliope’s big adventure. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As he typed, he realized that the vision of Calliope in his head had transformed. His heroine’s hair was now blonder, her eyes a brighter shade of blue - but her resilience and determination remained the same. Truth be told, from what he had learned about Clarke in the past few hours, she seemed to embody many of the character traits that defined the fictional heroine. Bellamy quickly pushed that thought out his mind to deal with later, and dove right back into the action scene he was crafting, his fingers rhythmically tapping the keys. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Soon, they neared their destination, and the plane pinged a reminder for the passengers to fasten their seatbelts. The noise woke Clarke. Seeing her stir, Bellamy quickly saved his work and shut his laptop. He had found it oddly thrilling to be writing the fourth installment of Clarke’s favourite book series sitting right beside her, as she was in the process of auditioning to play his character. It was a weird, out-of-this-world feeling, but truly fascinating.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey, are we there?” she asked groggily, her voice still clouded with sleep. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy nodded, forcing himself to ignore how adorable she looked having just woken up. “Yeah, we’re above the good ole city of angels now.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke stretched, her arms reaching high above her, but her yawn caught her by surprise, and her arm fell out of control - dropping quickly and smacking the brim of Bellamy’s cap in the process, causing it to fly off. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry,” she squeaked, her rogue hand now covering her mouth. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He simply rolled his eyes at her, but was quick to thank the flight attendant who had retrieved his hat, which had bounced down the aisle between the seats.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you ready for your big callback?” he asked, genuinely curious, playing with his cap in his hands. He was certainly nervous about the whole process. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke shrugged. “Ready as I’ll ever be. But it’s just dealing with one mystery author in exchange for a chance to play my dream role.” Her voice turned melodic, almost as if she was reciting a mantra or a meditation. “It could be worse. It could be spiders, or hurricanes, or pigeons. But it’s not. I can do this.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy raised an eyebrow inquisitively. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her cheeks flushed red, “It’s uh, this thing my therapist taught me. I list all of the things I’m actually afraid of, and then what I’m worried about doesn’t seem so bad. It’s manageable.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Makes sense.” Placing his hat back on his head, “But pigeons, really?” He made a mental note to remember what she was scared of. If Clarke did get the part, he could always write one of her fears into the storyline to mess with her - if he was feeling spiteful, that is. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She groaned. “I hate all birds, but pigeons are the worst. They don’t fear people, it’s unnatural!” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He laughed. The flight attendants called their attention to the plane’s descent and both Bellamy and Clarke quickly repacked their bags and returned their tables to the upright position.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>In a matter of a few short moments, the plane had landed safely on the ground and they were taxiing toward the landing gate. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey, so I’m glad you didn’t turn out to be a creepy stalker dude.” Clarke said, turning to face him in the final moments aboard the airplane. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He smirked, “I’m glad I’m not either.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes, and smacked his bicep playfully. “Oh, give me your phone.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay,” he hesitated for a moment, but then pulled his phone from his bag, remembering her offer to take a picture for Octavia. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is this your sister?” she asked, glancing at the home screen picture of the two Blake siblings with his dog.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, that’s Octavia, and my dog, Achilles.” He unlocked the screen. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wow, and I thought you made up the name Bellamy. Turns out your family is just tragic in the name department.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey, I take personal offence to that. I named them both.” He glared at her with mock hurt on his face, as passengers around them began to stand to find their bags in the overhead compartments. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She stared wide-eyed for a moment, before stealing the phone from his grasp, and swiping open the camera. “I’m going to totally ignore that fact that your parents made a terrible decision in letting a small child name his younger sister. Now she totally deserves this picture, so smile!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy leaned in close to her, but rolled his eyes at her comment just as she snapped the picture. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It wasn’t the greatest picture - Clarke looked stunning, but he had been caught mid-eye roll - but  it was goofy, which made Clarke laugh. And Octavia would get a kick out of it too. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She held onto his phone, tapping a few buttons, but angling it away from Bellamy so he couldn’t see what she was doing. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Clarke, what are you doing? Give it back,” he said, holding out his open palm for the phone. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There! Since you can clearly keep a secret for Blake, I trust you with this.” Clarke angled the phone back to him to show she had added herself as a contact. And had texted the selfie to herself. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy took back his phone cautiously, wondering why Clarke Griffin, Hollywood’s princess, would give her number to him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She explained, “I want to let you know if I get the part. And if I don’t, you have to send me an advanced copy of Blake’s third book, before it comes out, since you were obviously no help in landing me the role. I’m dying to know what happens to Calliope next.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy laughed, “I don’t know, princess. I still think you’ll get it.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So dang optimistic,” she commented, standing up and shouldering her bag, and placing her disguise of sunglasses and hat back on her head. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He followed her off the plane, and they soon parted ways, waving goodbye as he called out “Good luck, princess” one more time. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Clarke sat in the backseat of the town car en route to her callback. After her agent Anya had picked her up at the airport, they had grabbed a quick work lunch to brief before their meeting, and now they were back in the car, as it slowly traversed the busy downtown streets. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Looking in her compact mirror one more time, Clarke was satisfied with the touch ups she had added to her make up, making her look presentable after a late night filming in New York and an early morning cross country flight. She sighed, looking around for something to distract herself with, and opened her phone. Bringing up the picture she had sent herself from Bellamy’s phone, she smiled. Flying was definitely not one of her favourite things to do, but today’s flight wasn’t so bad. Plus, now she had an in at Polis Publishing, that she could possibly extort for advanced copies of books from her favourite authors. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The car came to a stop. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’re here,” Anya said, getting out of the car, blunt as always. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke followed her into the building, remembering what they had talked about earlier. The director and producer, Monty Green and his wife, Harper, wanted to do this project justice. After narrowing the casting process down to Clarke and Lexa, they wanted both girls in to see who connected best with the character. They had flown in the book’s secretive author, B. Blake, as he knew the character and storyline best, and the Green’s would take into consideration his casting opinion - despite the fact that he had no knowledge of the film industry whatsoever, a point that infuriated both Clarke and Anya. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>They rounded a corner, and found themselves in a long hallway. Anya pointed to the bench and Clarke sat down to wait. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Moments later, the door opposite them opened, and out walked a girl with long dark curls, Lexa Woods. And on her heels, followed her agent and personal assistant. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke politely smiled at the fellow actor, but Lexa’s face held an indifferent glare, not even meeting Clarke’s eye as she and her entourage walked down the hall and rounded the corner out of sight. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Taking a deep breath, Clarke repeated her calming mantra in her head, doing her best to not let Lexa’s appearance get to her. She had to give this her best shot. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then the meeting room door opened again, an assistant waved them in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Stepping into the room, Clarke looked around, nervous and excited to finally put a face to this mysterious author she both loved and hated, and - </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> -what the actual </em> fuck <em> . </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sitting beside Monty and Harper, who she recognized from her previous audition, was the very same Bellamy she had sat beside on the plane that morning, wearing the same ball cap and shit eating grin she recognized. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hi Clarke, Anya. Good to see you both again,” Monty said, standing up from his table, walking over to shake Anya’s hand. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Still frozen in place, she watched Bellamy stand up as well. “Hey, princess! Long time no see.” He even had the audacity to wink at her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke stood there frozen, and sputtered, “I, uh. What are you - You’re him? No…” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Monty looked over his shoulder to Bellamy, “You already know Clarke?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Shrugging her shoulders, Harper spoke up from her seat at the table. “Great, less introductions for us. Clarke, it’s great to see you again. You had a good flight?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke finally unfroze from her shock, and let herself shake Monty’s hand, and nodded at Harper’s question. She was aware of Anya’s curious glare, and knew her agent was wondering how on earth she and Bellamy freaking Blake knew each other. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Anya, this is Bellamy Blake, the author of the Sanctum series, and the creator of Calliope’s character and story.” Monty spoke as Bellamy and Anya shook hands. “You both already know that he’s here to sit in as Harper and I make the final casting decisions.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Monty and Bellamy returned to their seats beside Harper, and Anya took a seat beside the door, leaving Clarke standing in the middle of the room, looking to the table of people who would decide her future. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke only saw red as she glared at Bellamy. On the plane, she had thought his smirk was cute, but now it was damn infuriating. How could he have kept it all a secret? Then she blushed, recalling how much she had talked about him <em> to Bellamy </em> on the plane. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How are you feeling, Clarke?” Harper asked, a genuine caring smile on her face. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke managed to smile. “I’m great, a little blindsided, but very excited to be here.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wonderful,” Monty answered. He shuffled a few papers in front of him. “Can you read for Calliope in Scene 12, where she says goodbye to her grandmother? Harper will read opposite you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Definitely.” Clarke refused to look over at Bellamy annoying-know-it-all Blake. Instead, she closed her eyes, took a centering breath, and recalled the scene. It was one of her favourite scenes, and she had it memorized. Hopefully being off book would count in her favour, and show how eager she was for this role. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Opening her eyes, Clarke focused her gaze on Harper, and began to speak Calliope’s words, without sparing a thought or glance for the man who had written the words she spoke. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Somehow Clarke had made it through to the end of her audition with a smile on her face. From the brief interactions with Monty and Harper, Clarke knew they would be an excellent team to work with. But Bellamy Blake on the other hand… She couldn’t let herself go down that rabbit hole. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lost in her thoughts, she barely noticed Anya’s gentle grip on her arm, leading her down the hall, and out the building. Clarke didn’t recall sitting down in the car, and she didn’t hear Anya’s words when her agent spoke. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But she noticed her phone buzz. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Bellamy: Please don’t be mad, princess. I wanted to be as unbiased as possible, and thought it would be funny to surprise you... You were great, and I’m rooting for you. </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke didn’t know what was worse - embarrassing herself in front of her favourite author, or having the author turn out to be the same guy who had probably thought she was a ditzy blonde princess before she spent the next few hours arguing with him and embarrassing herself. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Fuck. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>This was not going to end well. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She typed out a reply: <b>What the crap, Blake. You suck. </b></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Leaning her head against the car window, Clarke closed her tired eyes. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then her phone buzzed again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Bellamy: Will it suck less if I send you a book 3 ARC?</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rolling her eyes, she typed back: <b>It’s worth a shot. The Green’s have Anya’s mailing address. </b></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Turning off her phone, she willed the car to drive faster. All she wanted was to go to her parent’s LA home, have a shower, and take a nap. Who knew, maybe Bellamy Blake would actually deliver on his promise and she would be able to escape her embarrassment by reading the next book in her favourite series. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>After a night spent tossing and turning, Clarke finally got out of bed, wrapped herself in a robe and wandered downstairs. To her surprise, she found Anya sitting at the counter, already holding a take out coffee in Clarke’s direction. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good morning,” Anya chuckled at her client’s disheveled appearance. Clarke was <em> so </em> not a morning person, and she cradled the coffee, leaching it’s warmth. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Morning, Anya. Why are you here so early?” She sat down at the counter bar next to her agent, peeling open the brown bag of pastries, and taking out a muffin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I have news,” Anya stated, matter of factly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke froze again, her muffin halting midair as she was about to take a bite. She blinked, and took a deep breath. “What news?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Monty Green called this morning.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Scanning her agent’s stoic face for a hint, any clue that this would be good news or bad news, Clarke found no tells. “Tell me!” she jumped up from her stool and began pacing anxious circles around the kitchen. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You got it. Clarke, you got Calliope.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was a beat of silence, and then she felt her chest explode, a surging scream of excitement released from her mouth. Running back to Anya, Clarke latched her arms around her agent in a tight hug. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh my god, oh my god!” she squealed. “I can’t believe it!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Congratulations, Clarke.” Anya smiled widely, her teeth shining, a rare occurrence. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tell me everything, what did Monty say?” Clarke hopped back up on the stool, eager to hear Anya’s notes from the call. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just that they were so grateful you were able to come in for the callback yesterday. He mentioned seeing you and Lexa in person yesterday was very helpful, and he and Harper loved your interpretation of the character. They were uncertain at first, based on your resume, but they were happily surprised by your audition and can’t wait to work with you. We start production in a few weeks.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Taking a minute to process her agent’s words, Clarke was eternally grateful the Green’s had been able to overlook her typecast past and see her potential. But Anya hadn’t mentioned anything about the author, or if Bellamy had any input in the decision.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wait, but I thought the author, Blake, was supposed to help them decide.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anya’s mouth curled in a smirk. “Monty said Blake advised them to go with an actress who had actually read the books, and when he asked Lexa what she liked about the books, she admitted she’d never read them, and had her assistant look up a summary.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke flashed back to when Bellamy had asked her that very question in the audition yesterday. She had tried to keep her composure, but lost herself rambling about her favourite scenes and characters. The Green’s had shared a look, and Clarke had been afraid if that meant they thought she was too high strung or too overinvested to be the right choice - but apparently not. Apparently it was the complete opposite.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Really? Bellamy didn’t say anything else?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anya shook her head, “Not that I know of. I think he left the real decision to the Greens. But he did have this sent over for you.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Reaching into her purse, Anya dug out a thick paperback novel with a plain cover. Clarke immediately recognized the words on cover, From the Ashes She Rose, by B. Blake. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Opening the front cover, she noticed he had written a note in black ink:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Clarke,  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Princess, I hope you can forgive me.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> As you so astutely told me on the plane, this dumb author is stupidly private and nobody knows who he is.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> But I’d like to think that you know me now. And it means the world to me that you liked my story, and my character.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> And I can’t think of a better person to bring Calliope to life on the big screen. You are fantastic. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> I hope you like Book 3. Please let me know what you think.  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Yours,  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Bellamy (aka B. Blake, the author you love to hate) </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> P.s. If you don’t forgive me, I’m definitely writing spiders, hurricanes, and pigeons into Cal’s storyline for book 4. Just saying.  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She couldn’t contain her smile, her grin stretching happily across her face. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You really like these books, don’t you?” Anya asked. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I do,” Clarke answered. “What’s on my schedule for today?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anya shook her head. “Nothing, you’ve got a free day. Tomorrow, it’s back to New York to resume filming there.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Still smiling, Clarke hugged Anya. “Thank you.” Hopping off the stool, she clutched Bellamy’s book to her chest as she picked up her coffee and her muffin. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to read in my room, and find out what my character does in the third movie.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She heard Anya chuckle as she stepped up the stairs, feeling lighter than air with her excitement. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Upstairs, she sat down in her bed, dropping the book to pick up her phone. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Among texts from her parents, a co-star back in New York, and congratulatory texts from the Greens, she scrolled until she found the name she was looking for. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Bellamy: Congrats, princess. You’ll be phenomenal as Calliope. </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She was instantly full of joy at his words. Somehow in the span of twenty-four hours, Bellamy Blake had weaseled his way into her heart, and she suddenly cared what he thought. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Clarke: Thank you, thank you!!!! And yes, I forgive you. </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her phone buzzed a reply in seconds. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Bellamy: Oh thank goodness. So you got the book? I’m surprised you even texted me back. I thought you’d be busy reading, worshipping the words of your favourite author… ;)</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Clarke: I’m rolling my eyes at you right now. Thank you for the book, and I’m going to ignore you now so I can read it… and take copious notes of what could have been improved. ;)</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Placing her phone down beside her, so picked up the book, flipping to page one and began to read. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As she flipped to the second page, her phone buzzed again. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Bellamy: Enjoy. I’m meeting with the Green’s today, but you can text me. And I’m free tonight if you are. I look forward to hearing all of your strongly worded opinions and thoughts. </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Clarke: I’m still ignoring you... But how important is the swamp in the first chapter in the long run? Any chance we can have it vetoed in the movie? ‘Cause that sounds nasty and messy. </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Bellamy: We’ll talk. Besides, aren’t you the one who wanted to play Cal, and not pretty pink princesses? </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rolling her eyes at her phone, Clarke threw it to the foot of her bed and glued her eyes to the page, letting herself get lost in Calliope’s newest adventures. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em> [1 year later] </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The flash of cameras and the shouts from photographers were loud and dizzying. Anchoring himself to the moment, Bellamy tightened his grip on Clarke’s hand. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Clarke! Look here! Clarke!” he heard disembodied voices shout from the void of blinding lights. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He followed Clarke’s gentle lead as they made their way down the red carpet, hand in hand. It was dizzying insanity, and Bellamy was grateful that Clarke’s lifetime of experience was able to guide him through this moment. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It had been just over a year since he had met Clarke, that wonderful day on the flight from New York to Los Angeles that had changed his life forever. Not only had his first novel been transformed into a major motion picture, he was now happily dating the most beautiful woman in the world - who just so happened to star in the movie. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Squeezing Clarke’s hand gently in his once again, he remembered the events that led them here. That first day when they had met on the plane, when he got to meet the girl behind the princess facade, and she got to know Bellamy through their banter and teasing. And how he had surprised her at the audition, revealing that he was her favourite author. How he really didn’t have a say in the casting process, but rather trusted Monty and Harper to make the best decision, and they certainly made the right choice. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And to celebrate, Bellamy had sent Clarke an advanced copy of his third book that she had been so eagerly looking forward to. Clarke had read it through in one day, and had invited him over to her house that same evening. He had brought over Chinese take out, and she had served wine and her very strong opinions about his not-yet-published book. Clarke had ranted for several minutes about one particular scene, before Bellamy interrupted by kissing her - to end her rant, and simply because he wanted to. And she had kissed him back. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>After realizing they were both flying back to New York the next morning, Clarke had texted Anya to make sure they were on the same flight, sitting side by side. He held her hand during her take-off jitters, and the flight passed quickly, Clarke sleeping on his shoulder while he worked, and continually refusing to let her see book four. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>In New York, Clarke visited him a few days later, and got along thick as thieves with Octavia and Achilles. Bellamy finally gave in and let Clarke read the first draft of his fourth book and took her thoughts and comments seriously, making notes to edit and improve his second draft. Though he shouldn’t have been too surprised that she used her feminine wiles to convince him to rewrite one chapter that held a suspicious encounter with spiders and pigeons. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>From that point on, they had been inseparable - enjoying the time they had together when they could, and constantly checking in by text and facetime when her busy shoot schedule forced them apart. Luckily, Bellamy’s job allowed him to work remotely, and he and Achilles had moved in with Clarke in L.A. for a few months while she filmed The City of Light movie there. When the filming was complete, they flew back to New York, where Clarke unpacked her things at Bellamy’s apartment and they never looked back, only looking forward to their life together. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You okay?” Clarke whispered, sweetly, checking in on him and bringing him out of his thoughts. She knew he was totally out of his element, preferring a quiet office to a public event, casual clothes to tuxedos and uncomfortable fancy shoes. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy nodded, “Yeah. I’m so glad you’re here.” He was rewarded with her bright smile, and he was struck again by her beauty. At first, he had only agreed to attend the movie premiere for The City of Light by sneaking into the theater unnoticed, saying no one wanted to know about the book’s author. But Clarke, in her usual fashion of drawing him out of his shell, little by little, had convinced him to celebrate this major achievement. Bellamy had only conceded by having her agree to stay by his side. If he was going to do this, he sure as heck was not going to do it alone. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>After posing for a few more pictures, the pair finally reached the end of the red carpet, ducking inside the theater building. Rather than a quiet and peaceful refuge, Clarke and Bellamy only found more people to talk to, including Octavia and her boyfriend Lincoln, who had flown in for the occasion. Soon they were roped into a conversation with Monty and Harper, who shared their excitement of the premiere. Everyone had worked so hard to bring this project to life, though none as long as Bellamy, who had begun crafting this story as a nine year old boy trying to tuck his four year old sister into bed. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Finally, sitting in the darkened theater, the movie began. He felt Clarke’s thumb gently stroked his palm where their fingers intertwined. Leaning over, Bellamy kissed her quickly as the theater’s enormous screen filled with the colour of the film’s opening shot. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When the words “based on the novel by Bellamy Blake” appeared on the screen, Bellamy felt a swell of pride in his chest, as he heard Clarke and Octavia cheer from either side of him. He had his sister, who had inspired the story on one side, and his girlfriend, the talented actress who brought his character to life on his other side. It was certainly a full circle moment.   </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m so proud of you,” Clarke whispered in his ear, sweetly kissing his cheek. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Moments later, the words “starring Clarke Griffin” appeared on the screen, and Bellamy couldn’t contain his smile. “I’m so glad you got the part, babe. So glad we got to do this together” he whispered in Clarke’s ear. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He saw her smile widely, and she squeezed his hand, whispering back “Together.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! And for your kudos and comments! :)</p>
<p>Come find me on <a href="https://bookwormforalways.tumblr.com/post/613519780657430528/bookwormforalways-the-write-choice">tumblr!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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